Sunshine to Moonlight
by Sparkly Faerie
Summary: Drusilla's request throws Spike for a loop; now there're fledglings in the warehouse wearing the faces of the Slayer and her best friend. "I want the pretty sunshine. Will you make her for me?" Initial Sprusilla, eventual Spuffy. AU from 'Halloween'.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or anything associated with it. All rights to _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and affiliated products belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc.

**Summary:** Drusilla's request throws Spike for a loop; now there're fledglings in the warehouse wearing the faces of the Slayer and her best friend. "I want the pretty sunshine. Will you make her for me?"

**Setting: **AU from 'Halloween' (Season 2, Episode 6).

**Rating:** M

**Pairings:** Initial Sprusilla, eventual Spuffy.

**Genre:** Horror/Romance

* * *

**Sunshine to Moonlight**

**Prologue**

Drusilla took Miss Edith from the shelf of dolls, shushing the rest of them with a finger to her lips. "Shh, darlings! My William will see to it that we dance and play and sing with Sunshine in the moonlight. We'll have a grand ol' time, we will. It'll be a party, with the prettiest flowers in the valley." She sighed rapturously, covering her un-beating heart with her free hand. "Now, time for tea." She floated out of the room, a little shaky on her feet; she was still weak after the mob in Prague.

Spike was saying something to a minion of his; she didn't care for the images of the Slayer on the monitor, knowing that her usual methods would be of no trouble tomorrow night. She may have been mad, but she did know what her Spike was trying to do; it brought her great pleasure, knowing how devoted he was to making her well again. Her latest vision had, however, disturbed her.

"Miss Edith needs her tea." She called out to Spike, holding the doll with both hands and staring deep into her eyes.

He didn't take his eyes off the monitor. "C'mere, poodle." He held out a hand to her.

She lowered the doll and took the proffered hand. "Do you love my insides?" She pressed. "The parts you can't see?"

He switched his attention from the Slayer to her. "Eyeballs to entrails, my sweet." He assured her indulgently, looking back to the monitor. "That's why I've got to study this Slayer. Once I know her I can kill her. And once I kill her you can have your run of Sunnyhell. Get strong again."

"Don't worry!" She murmured. "Everything's switching; outside to inside." She rounded behind him and hissed at his neck; "It makes her weak."

That tore Spike's attention away from the same fight he'd seen twenty times over. "Really?" He pressed. "Did my pet have a vision?"

A thought occurred to her. "D'you know what I miss?" She asked him. "Leeches."

Spike took her arms gently, under the elbow. "Come on," he goaded, "talk to Daddy. This thing that makes the Slayer weak?" He insisted, turning them gently in a circle. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow." She told him, bringing Miss Edith up to her chest.

"Tomorrow's Halloween." Spike argued. "Nothing happens on Halloween."

Drusilla had a ghost of a smile. "Someone's come to change it all." She lifted the doll to her ear to hear the whispers. "Someone new." She grinned.

"And who might that be, Pet?" He asked.

But she was bored of that topic. She pulled her arms free and took a few steps to the monitors, frozen on the image of the Slayer staking the vampire with the sign. "Spike? I want the pretty sunshine." She reached up and ran a finger over the Slayer's hair. "Will you make her for me?"

"You want me to turn the Slayer, luv?" Spike frowned. "Could be a mite dangerous. I was just gonna kill her and get her out of the way."

"I want to watch you do some gardening." She pouted. "Can you make me the pretty sunshine, Spike?" She whimpered. "And the one with the fire on top? Please? I want them. Miss Edith whispers to me…" she spun in a little circle, holding the doll at arm's length.

Spike had a vague recollection of the Slayer's redheaded friend. She would be easier to catch than the Slayer. "I can promise you the redhead, luv, but the Slayer…"

"Silly William." She came back and tapped his nose with her index finger. "Sunshine must be tamed, else we all float in the wind." She warned. "Sunshine is precious… too precious to fade away. Needs to be reflected and come out with the moon."

Spike frowned at the request. "Alright, ducks. You want the Slayer and Red, I'll get them for you." Her took her into his arms, kissing her left temple. "I'll sow the seed of the demon in them; and once you're well, the four of us will paint this town in blood." He grinned evilly.

Drusilla clapped rapturously. "Oh, it will be such a pretty party!"

**

* * *

**

Buffy woke up in the dark; she couldn't see a thing, but her arms and legs were chained to the wall to prevent much movement. She remembered being chased into a warehouse while she was stuck inside the mind of the 18th century girl – Spike had brained her with a heavy pipe while her friends struggled in the background; she'd expected to be killed. Why wasn't she dead? What did he want with her?

"Hullo, Sunshine." A weak voice called through the gloom.

"Who's there?" She heard another voice call out into the black.

"Willow?" Buffy squeaked.

"Buffy?" Willow sounded as if she were trembling. "Buffy, is that you?"

"Shh!" The first voice commanded. "There will be no tea if you're bad girls. All pretty flowers need to be watered first."

"I see our guests are awake." A light flickered on; Buffy spied Willow across the room, chained to another wall. Spike was leaning in the doorway with a smug smile plastered across his face. "What d'you think, pet?" He turned to the other vampire – Buffy thought she was a vampire. She was pale and fidgety, with purple bags under her eyes – "The Slayer or her friend, first?"

"The fire blinds." The dark-haired woman held up a hand to shield herself from Willow. "Put out the fire, Spike… make it into embers so it can catch again when we need to warm our bones."

"Red, it is." He grinned, shifting into game face. "Lucky you, sweetheart."

Willow screamed as Spike advanced on her; Buffy tried to pull her chains free, but only succeeded in rattling them as she looked on helplessly. "Spike!" She yelled. "I swear, you so much as lay a _finger_ on her…!"

"Oh, don't worry, Slayer." Spike grinned through his fangs, sending a thrill of terror down her spine. "Red's gonna be just fine; she'll lose a heartbeat, but I bet she'll make a _smashing_ vamp. You'll be lucky and follow in her footsteps, thanks to my Dru here."

"Oh, no!" Willow tried to insist. "I r-really wouldn't! I'd be a horrible vampire!"

"Hush!" Dru bopped her lightly on the nose. "You're ruining the lovely garden with such bright flames."

"Spike, you let us go or you are _so_ dust!" Buffy hissed. "I dunno what your insane-o girlfriend told you, but there's no _way_ you're getting us to swallow _any_ of your blood!"

Spike fit into the space behind Willow, still in game face. He used his teeth to rip into the veins in his left wrist; Buffy watched as he used his good arm to pull Willow's hair, forcing her head to the side and exposing her neck. "I believe you're under the impression," he dipped a chaste kiss against Willow's jugular (Willow's panting morphed into hyperventilating), "that you have a choice. Drusilla wants you two turned, so turned you're gonna be. Lucky you; get to be her little pets. Maybe you'll even live to be a decade old."

And with that, he dipped his head down over Willow's neck again, fangs piercing her skin, and began to drink from her. When she cried out, he shoved his bleeding wrist against her teeth, forcing the blood into her mouth; she choked and gagged on it, desperately trying to reject the fluid, but she eventually swallowed on reflex. Buffy rattled her chains desperately as Spike drained her friend, forcing his blood down her throat. Eventually, Willow went limp.

Spike stepped back from Willow's body with a bloody grin. Stepping around the dead girl, he reached out to his girlfriend. Drusilla floated toward him and eagerly licked the excess blood from his lips before kissing him fiercely; Buffy rattled her chains like a wounded animal, ineffectively shielding her tears from her enemy. She didn't notice the two vampires in the centre of the room break apart until she felt Spike brush against her back.

She panicked, attempting to head butt Spike in a feeble effort to delay what now seemed inevitable. Drusilla growled at her as she advanced from the front. "May I take a sip, darling?" She asked Buffy, running a cold finger down the line of her jugular as Spike held her head tilted to the side. "Mummy liked the taste of fire and wonders if sunshine will be any sweeter."

"Go right ahead, Princess." Spike indulged his paramour, holding Buffy in a grip so tight she thought her head would fall off. "Just be sure and leave enough for me to turn her, luv."

There wasn't enough give in the chains for her to attempt to punch or kick the vampires on either side of her; she was helpless as Drusilla closed her lips against her throat and sank her fangs into her. The burning sting of the bite was just as she remembered it from when the Master bit her; she could feel the sucking sensation as Drusilla began to drain her.

It was over as quickly as it began; Drusilla backed off with a rapturous look on her face – eyes closed, head lolling backwards as if she were high. "Hurry, my darling." She urged. "Change her! Change her!"

Spike didn't need to be told again. It was much more painful to have _him_ bite her than Drusilla; _he_ didn't worry about being gentle – or maybe Dru was just weak? Either way, the pain was easily doubled.

She honestly didn't mean to swallow the blood. Much like Willow, she cried out in pain and had the bleeding limb thrust against her mouth. She felt the urge to vomit as the blood that came from his wrist flooded her senses, forcing its way down her throat and into her stomach. Eventually, she felt the world fade away as a numbness overcame her entire being.

She couldn't move.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't—


	2. Chapter One

**Note:** I don't mean to nag, but reviews would be nice. I didn't get a lot of feedback for the prologue, so I don't know if people are liking it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or anything associated with it. All rights to _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and affiliated products belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc.

**Summary:** Drusilla's request throws Spike for a loop; now there're fledglings in the warehouse wearing the faces of the Slayer and her best friend. "I want the pretty sunshine. Will you make her for me?"

**Setting: **AU from 'Halloween' (Season 2, Episode 6).

**Rating:** M

**Pairings:** Initial Sprusilla, eventual Spuffy.

**Genre:** Horror(?)/Romance

* * *

**Sunshine to Moonlight**

**Chapter One**

Buffy knocked on the door to her mother's home, making sure that she looked suitably grimy after a day 'on the street' and plastered a terrified, helpless look on her features. She heard Joyce rushing to the door and almost laughed at the force with which she ripped the door inward. Standing there in her Halloween gown, she looked up at her mother with the most pitiful expression she could muster.

"Mom!" She wailed. "I was so scared!"

Joyce stepped back from the door. "Come in, sweetie!" She invited her in. "Where on _Earth_ have you been? Do you have _any_ idea how worried I've been?" She closed it behind her as Buffy stepped over the threshold.

"Things just went crazy." Buffy sniffled. "I hid in an abandoned house until the yelling stopped, but I fell asleep and got lost on the way home."

"My poor baby." Joyce hugged her, seeming not to notice how cold she was. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower and change, and I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate after I call the police and let them know you're home?"

"Yes, please." She whimpered. "And Mom?"

Joyce turned back to her daughter. "What is it, honey?"

"I just wanted you to know," Buffy reached up a cool hand and traced Joyce's cheek, down to her jaw, "that I loved you more than anything in my life."

And then Buffy reached up with her other hand and snapped her mother's neck.

* * *

Buffy rooted around her closet, throwing a few items into the bag she'd dug up from under the bed. Most of the clothing was too cheery for her now; she took a few darker items, some jeans and a single leather and two denim jackets, but left most of it on the hangers. She didn't want to stand out like a sore thumb when – _if_ – the new Slayer came to town.

Freshly showered, Buffy squeezed into a pair of dark jeans and a red shirt, glad to finally be rid of that ridiculous dress. She dried her hair with the hairdryer and shouldered her bag, careful not to aggravate her already-healing bite mark, casting a glance around the room once more. It would likely be the last time she ever saw it. Before, that thought would have caused her to feel… sadness? But now, nothing. This was all part of her old life, as was the corpse downstairs.

Her eyes landed on the weapons box that she kept at the bottom of her closet. _Let 'em know it was you_, Spike's top minion had said when he'd sent her off into the night. _Tell 'em you'd been there_. She wasn't hungry; Drusilla had made sure that she and Willow were given someone to eat the moment they woke up. Some unsuspecting kids from the school she'd gone to. She didn't even bother to recognise them past that before gorging herself in her first kill. So, she wasn't hungry, but she _did_ have an idea.

Five minutes later, as she stepped over her mother's body on the way out, without even bothering to close the door, she grinned to herself. Unlife was going to be _fun_.

She didn't notice the pair of eyes watching her in the shadows.

* * *

"I should feel bad," Buffy announced as she entered the warehouse, "but I don't. Why?"

Spike had been out on the hunt since before she woke, and only a few henchmen were left behind. Willow hadn't left; she could smell her (that was a little bewildering) in one of the back rooms, probably sleeping. The guard at the door had said that sunrise was on the approach and Spike was due back any moment, though; she mildly wondered what he would say when he saw his former arch-nemesis with his weakened girlfriend, with said girlfriend staring at her as if she were the second coming.

"Silly girl!" Drusilla clapped and patted a spot on the couch she was sitting on. Buffy took the seat, putting her bag on the floor at her feet. "Only Sunshine feels guilt; Moonlight revels in the kill!" She took Buffy's hands and caressed them with exaggerated tenderness. "Such pretty hands; already covered in blood long before my dear William kissed you." She brushed one hand along the bite mark on Buffy's neck, her gaze going vague as she seemed to stare right through her.

"…Drusilla?" Buffy blinked, confused. Buffy wondered what the older woman was talking about; was she mad?

"My little girl…" Drusilla brushed a lock of Buffy's hair behind her ear, "…such a grand party you'll 'ave…" she sighed, blinking as her gaze came back into focus, "…you and my William, dearie… tho' he wont be mine then… you'll both 'ave such a grand time…"

Okay, so, yes, Buffy concluded, she was totally bonkers. She did feel a rush of affection when the older vampiress' fingers brushed against her cheek, though, despite that. "I didn't think vampires could feel good emotions…" she whispered into Dru's palm as she turned her head to kiss it in a reverent gesture. The feelings that the madwoman invoked in her were reminiscent of the feelings that she'd felt for her mother in life, mixed with the indulgence of caring for a child.

"Silly Moonlight, with 'er pretty 'ead full of lies." Dru giggled. "She'll see soon enough… sees like 'er Mummy, she does." She ran a finger down Buffy's cheek, the nails slicing into her flesh; it didn't sting the way it would have if she were human. It almost felt warm as a sliver of blood ran down her cheek and Dru used her tongue to lap it up.

"Should I be jealous, pet?" A male voice cut through the room.

Buffy jumped and tried to back away from Drusilla, not sure as to the degree of familiarity she was allowed to have with her Sire's girlfriend; but Dru kept a firm hold on Buffy's arm, refusing to let her leave the couch. It was the first time Buffy had seen her new Sire since her heart stopped beating; she looked up at him with mild interest, tugging on the arm that Dru held in an effort to put some distance between them as he closed in, ignoring her. "What are you up to, Dru?" He asked softly, reaching down and trying to pry her hand off Buffy's arm. Buffy leant away from him.

"Moonlight looks through the looking glass and sees pictures." Drusilla hissed to Spike, loud enough for Buffy to overhear. "Like Princess, but much clearer. Such pretty pictures… all painted in blood and viscera and daffodils…"

Spike turned to Buffy at Dru's words, mild curiosity burning in his eyes. "You got the Sight, Summers?" He barked.

"No." Buffy answered, bemused. She shrugged. "Had the occasional prophetic Slayer dream. Nothing unusual." He raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief. "Gotta tell you," she made a face at him, "nothing she's telling me makes any kind of sense. Loony bin too full to take her?"

She found herself violently wrenched up and pinned to the wall, his hand flexing as he gripped her throat. She didn't technically need to breathe, but the sensation of her airway being cut off was still uncomfortable, and she was seeing stars from where her head struck the bricks. Spike was in her face, gameface on, growling menacingly at her. She'd observed other vampires and their progeny before, and _knew_ that she should be cowering against her Sire's wrath; she surprised herself by feeling her own gameface forming and an equally as feral growl tore itself through her lips.

_Note to self; never insult Drusilla._

"You insolent little—" he raised a hand to strike her.

"No!" Drusilla grabbed his fist. His face whipped around to look at her. "Dolly doesn't get 'urt." She sounded pretty lucid as she commanded him. "Let 'er go."

Spike growled at her again and relaxed his grip, letting Buffy sink to the floor, coughing. She took a few breaths and (with considerable effort) made her gameface recede until she was wearing her human mask once more. Drusilla crouched by her side, steadying herself against the wall with a hand, and ran her fingers through Buffy's hair. Buffy blinked up at her.

Spike kicked her shin rather hard; Buffy cried out in shock and pain. "You _ever_ talk about Dru that way again, you're dust." He growled at her through his fangs before letting them recede. "You got that?" Buffy nodded weakly, still coughing. "You 'n' Red got some beds over there." He pointed toward the west side of the building. "You're comin' out on the hunt tomorrow; Red prolly wont have her bearin's by then, but you look like you can 'anlde it." He tiled his head, eyeing her thoughtfully. Buffy wondered what he meant by that. "Be ready to go by sundown, or you get left behind 'n' starve."

Buffy scrambled to her feet and rocketed off in the direction he'd indicated, easily tracing Willow's scent to one of the smaller rooms; there were two cots set up. Willow was sitting on one, looking positively feral – like every other fledgling that Buffy had ever dusted in the history of her days as a Slayer; why did she feel mostly like herself (her lack of conscience and emotional connection to her human friends and family notwithstanding), while Willow looked like she wanted to run out the window and bay at the moon?

She decided to ignore her fellow fledge as she curled up on the other cot, pummelling her pillow into a more comfortable consistency and pulling the blanket over her head. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep before sunrise was Willow's wild growling.

* * *

Giles, Xander, Jenny Calender, and Angel were all crowded around the library, quiet and subdued. The three humans of the bunch all had tear tracks on their cheeks; the ensoulled vampire was full of rage, looking for all the world like he wanted to kill something.

"Are… you sure?" Xander asked for the third time.

"I saw her." Angel growled, picking up a soda can that had been left behind and hurling it across the room; it made a hole in the wall upon impact. "I could smell it all over her. Spike's blood." He glared at the hole, with orange soda dripping out of it. "Spike didn't just kill her when he took her from the warehouse on Halloween. He sired her. He probably got to Willow, too."

"But why?" Giles's voice was thick. "Wouldn't a sired Slayer be… risky, at best? The essence of the Slayer…"

"Would only make the demon stronger, more dangerous." Angel shook his head. "Buffy's the first _actual_ Slayer that I know of to be sired, but _potential_ Slayers have been sired before. This isn't good." Angel paced the length of the library. "Drusilla's visions and thrall, and other psychic powers, come from her being a potential Slayer." He looked Giles square in the eye. "Her revelations have always been vague at best, since she's insane. Now that Buffy's a vampire, she could have the visions, the thrall, and who knows what else?" He sighed in apprehension. "And she's not mad, so if she _does_ have visions, and she _does_ share them, they're going to be a _lot_ more specific than Dru's. You can bet Spike'll take advantage of that."

"What… can we do?" Xander asked in trepidation.

"We must destroy her." Giles sighed in resignation. "The others, too, if we can. However, ensuring that Buffy's talents can never be used against us must be first priority. She's rather new, so catching her unawares should pose no real difficulty. Nevertheless, if Angel is right, we can count on the clan protecting her. She will be exceedingly difficult to slay. "

"If Dru wanted her, which is probably the case," Angel sighed, "Spike'll be pretty tight with Buffy's restrictions." Angel said. "Dru treats her progeny like pets for the first decade or so; she'll be precious to her. Spike'd never let her suffer her loss."

"Then we must find them on the hunt." Giles concluded.

"No." Jenny shook her head vehemently. "There's gotta be another way."

"I'm afraid not, Jenny." Giles looked as if he were about to cry. "Believe me, I wish there were; however, this is the only way. She's not Buffy anymore. The demon that killed her took her body, but her soul has moved on to the afterlife."

"Then I can summon it!" Jenny protested. "I can give her soul back to her, like my peop—like the Gypsies did to Angel!"

"It'd be kinder to just kill her." Angel shook his head. "Giving a vampire a soul isn't something that can be taken lightly. It may send her insane with guilt. It was a hundred years before I was in any kind of shape to do more than mope in an alley chasing rats. She killed her own mother, for God's sake. Speaking from experience, that's usually the hardest burden to bear."

"Are we sure it was Buffy that killed Mrs Summers?" Xander asked, timid. He simply didn't want to believe that his friend was a monster.

Giles cleaned his glasses on his shirt. "According to the details, and Angel's own eyewitness account, I'm afraid it is the only logical conclusion."

"But he could be wrong!" Xander argued.

"She had a _stake_ through her heart." Angel deadpanned. "I don't think it gets much more obvious than that."

* * *

Spike and Drusilla were lying in a spooning position on their bed in the largest room in the factory. She was sleeping; he was leaning over her, gently tracing her jaw line with his index finger, deep in thought.

He wondered just what she was playing at; whenever Dru wanted a particular person sired, she always had a reason. She wasn't like other vampires, who sired on instinct and abandoned their creations without a second thought to be taken by the Slayer. She was ridiculously family-orientated for a vampire and insisted that Spike teach the new girls the ropes once they were able to go out.

Dru stirred in her sleep at his touch. He withdrew his hand with a frown. She was still so ill. He knew that the answer to her recovery was somewhere in Sunnydale; felt in his bones that the answer rested right atop the Hellmouth. But her visions had been few and far between, and he couldn't make top nor tail of the information she tried to give him when the visions _did_ come. All they knew was that it was on the Hellmouth, and it was almost time.

His thoughts turned to the ex-Slayer on the other side of the factory. It had been odd to see her sitting with Dru so casually, with Dru being so familiar with her. There was something like maternal pride mixed with childish awe shining in her eyes at his newest creation; something that she'd lacked when looking on the other minions that he'd made to serve her. He suspected that the Summers girl being a Slayer in her former life would affect her as a vampire, but he didn't know how much. She was remarkably in control for a fledge, and had challenged him like she was decades old, rather than hours, in the other room.

A bout of masculine pride swept through him. _First vampire to turn a Slayer_. That was him.

If anyone in the supernatural world hadn't heard of him after he'd killed his second Slayer, they'd likely hear of him soon; it was only a matter of time before the rest of the Scoobies found out what happened to their precious Slayer. And then, once the Watcher's Council (bloody poofters that they were) heard the happy news, he'd be one infamous sonuvabitch. Feared and revered everywhere he went.

And once Drusilla was well, he'd make sure the world knew of their new family.


	3. Chapter Two

**Note:** I changed the Horror genre to Supernatural, simply because I don't think I have the room in these chapters (I'm keeping them short on purpose; my other Buffy fic has long chapters and it's hard to keep up) for all the gory details.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or anything associated with it. All rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and affiliated products belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc.

**Summary:** Drusilla's request throws Spike for a loop; now there're fledglings in the warehouse wearing the faces of the Slayer and her best friend. "I want the pretty sunshine. Will you make her for me?"

**Setting: **AU from 'Halloween' (Season 2, Episode 6).

**Rating:** M

**Pairings:** Initial Sprusilla, eventual Spuffy.

**Genre:** Supernatural/Romance

* * *

**Sunshine to Moonlight**

**Chapter Two**

Willow was still feral the next night. While Buffy brushed her hair and plaited it, she was holed up in the corner, still growling at her every move. Standing still and simply watching her, Buffy cocked her head, wondering if Spike would eventually stake her if she didn't come to her senses soon. She didn't know exactly how long it took for new vampires to act like themselves again (now that she knew that a vampire was essentially just a _freer_ version of their original self), but she knew that _she'd_ come back to herself faster than normal. There was only a few moments of disorientation when she woke up, and then she'd known exactly what she was, what had happened to her, and what she'd been; Drusilla had implied that the Slayer inside of her had affected her, but Buffy wasn't sure she or anyone else knew how much.

It was still overwhelming, even though she still retained her sense of self. There were a lot more senses working overtime than she was used to; touch was much the same as ever, and taste seemed a little duller, but her sight, hearing, and scent were all working overtime to assess her surroundings. Adding to that, there was a sort of sixth sense that she'd sort-of had as the Slayer, allowing her to sense the presence of others, that had multiplied by about ten times with her transformation. She could rattle off the position of every vampire in a twenty-foot radius; she could probably sense humans, if there were any about. Spike and Drusilla were the most prominent blips on her radar; she could somehow sense that her Sire had been sired by his girlfriend, and more of the others around here were sired by Spike. She supposed they were like her brothers and sisters now?

She tugged on a black denim jacket (it went with her black miniskirt and green halter top, and she had no idea what to wear on a hunt). Smearing some dark red lipstick on her mouth, she figured she was ready to go; she couldn't see the effects in the mirror anymore, and had to rely on memory to picture what she looked like. She practiced slipping in and out of gameface a few more times, satisfied that she'd mastered it; she'd been practicing all day, since Spike had told her she was going out on the hunt tonight.

She was actually excited. Stepping into the main area of the factory, she was met with the sight of roughly twenty vampires, counting Spike, assembling themselves into groups of three or four. She stood off to the side, wondering who she'd be going with, until Spike noticed her presence. "Slayer! You're with me 'n' Steve tonight."

Buffy hurried along to join the two male vampires. "I'm _not_ the Slayer anymore." She groused.

"Maybe not, Summers," Spike reached into his back pocket and fished out a newspaper clipping, "but s'not what the papers are sayin'."

Buffy took the proffered clipping, smoothing it out so she could read it.

_Woman slain 'like Vampire'_

_The body of Joyce Summers was discovered in her Rovello Drive home last night. Killed by a broken neck, authorities have disclosed that the killer had pierced her heart with a wooden stake, much like the mythical creature, the vampire, is said to be killed. The 'Vampire Slayer', as dubbed by the police, is still at large…_

Buffy's face remained impassive as she handed the clipping back. "So? One-time thing. Was told to make it obvious that I was there. To the Watcher."

Spike considered her for a moment. "Good work, then." He acknowledged. "Right, let's go, you pair. I feel like visitin' the Bronze tonight. Scare me up some booze."

They walked for an hour to get there; Buffy, obviously not as new to the area as the other two, got irritated with them when they began arguing at a three-way intersection, a few streets away from the club. Apparently Steve was fairly high up in the pecking order, if he could argue with Spike and get away with it. It was still too early to have many people there, and the music wasn't on yet, so there was no sounds or human presence to go by. They'd left the instant that the sun went down, and there was still a half-hour or so before the club opened. Spike and Steve were just going from memory.

"It's straight." Spike barked.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's right." Steve argued.

"And _I'm_ tellin' _you_, it's bloody _straight_!"

Buffy coughed pointedly. "Guys…"

"I swear we went right last time!"

"You'd be _wrong_, mate!"

"Guys…"

"Spike, I _know_ where I'm going!"

"You're bloody _wrong_."

Buffy had finally had enough, deciding to leave them behind and wait for when they _finally_ showed up. She turned left and was halfway down the alley before she felt Spike close in on her. "Where the hell d'you think _you're_ goin', fledge?" He demanded, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around to face his growling gameface.

"The Bronze." Buffy shrugged, nonchalant. "I didn't wanna stand at that intersection until the sun came up. Kinda hungry." She admitted.

"You're goin' the wrong way." Steve frowned at her, still wearing his human face.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at the two older, male vampires. "I've lived in this town for a year and a half." She pointed out. "The Bronze is five blocks from here, on the left. If you'd bothered to ask, I'd have told you that."

Spike unexpectedly struck her with the back of his hand; she stumbled backward from the force of the blow, but managed not to fall on her ass. "Quit bein' so insolent, you little blighter." He growled. "When I want your input, I'll ask."

"Yeah," Buffy scoffed despite the slight twinge of fear that blossomed in her gut this time around – at least she'd managed not to slip into gameface – "and we'd have been standing there for hours before you both realised that it was pointless to argue and just _ask_ where the damn thing is. I didn't feel like waiting for the sun to burn us to a crisp, or maybe for Angel to come along with a stake." She raised her eyebrow again. "If he knows what me and Willow are now, you can bet he'd be after us. Waiting for us to go out hunting."

Spike regarded her levelly. "Fine." He bit, fangs receding. He swept an arm out in front of her. "Lead the way." He growled.

Buffy nervously turned and hurried along the alley. Her face stung from the force of the blow; she'd likely bruise after she fed, if she hadn't already. Her only shred of comfort was that Spike seemed to do whatever Drusilla wanted to, and Drusilla was positively gaga over Buffy; when Buffy woke from her sleep, two hours before sundown, Drusilla had insisted that Buffy sit with her and allow her to style her hair five different ways. Spike wouldn't dust Buffy if Dru wanted her… right?

She was relieved when they finally got there. Steve paid their entry fee, and the three of them slinked into the club and blended in with the regulars. Buffy felt a sense of déjà vu as she stalked up to the balcony area, scanning the crowd; it was just like it was before, when she'd come in and climb up to spot her friends in the throng. Only now, she was looking for a meal, and possibly clothes that fit. She leaned on the railing, eyes scanning the crowd for a girl roughly her size; with half of Sunnydale High there, it wasn't hard. Unfortunately, most of the girls preferred sequins and pastels this season, which was a problem for her. If she were going to fit in as a creature of the night, she needed something a _little_ darker.

She sensed more than herd Spike presence behind her. Closing her eyes and letting the vibrations of the music come over her, she opened them when Spike leaned on the railing next to her. "See anythin' you like, Summers?" He asked almost conversationally, as if he hadn't just slugged her fifteen minutes beforehand. "Younger they are, the better they tend to taste, I find."

She shook her head, looking at the crowd again. "None of their clothes look any good." She groused, more to herself than to him. "I was _hoping_ to get some new ones."

Spike snorted. "Nick 'em from a shop, luv." He said simply. "Go get yourself somthin' to eat before tall, dark and forehead gets here."

"Who?" She blinked.

"Angel." Spike shrugged. "Bloody ponce."

Buffy blinked again, looking at Spike again. "R_i_ght." She drawled. "I'll do that."

She turned to head toward the stairs when the world went wonky. She reached out and grabbed the railing, bowing her head and pinched her nose; she breathed deeply on reflex, feeling like she was about to tumble forward and fall face first on the iron floor. Everything greyed out for a moment before an image began to float into her mind.

_It started with the clock; she _knew_ she was facing the ground, but the image of the clock was in her mind's eye. It read eight thirty-two; the image then swung around to the front door. Angel, Giles and Xander all trooped in, grimly pulling stakes out of concealed pockets and began scouring the club – Angel caught Steve trying to lure a young girl out the back and dusted him on the spot._

She came back to herself with a sharp gasp, looking at the floor once more. Not bothering to question where the vision had come from, she cast her eye around for the clock; eight twenty-nine.

She pushed her way through the crowd to find Spike; he'd wandered away without noticing her predicament. Two minutes later, she eventually found him chatting up a young woman at the bar. Ignoring his irritated yelling and the scene she was making, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him into a corner, catching the fist that he aimed at her face on reflex. "What the _bloody hell_—?"

She checked the clock. "We have less than _one minute_ to get the hell outta here before Angel, Giles and Xander come in here with stakes." She hissed.

"What?"

"I saw it!" She hissed. "Everything went wonky and grey, and I _saw_ it." She was anxiously casting her eye at the door. "They're here!" She squeaked, pointing at the door.

Spike growled a little. Grabbing her wrist, he started looking for their comrade in the crowd. "Where the bloody hell is that idiot…?"

"If you're talking about Steve, it's probably too late for him." Buffy whispered, still heard over the din. "Angel went for him straight away."

Sure enough, they heard the telltale sound of a small implosion, signifying the end of a vampire. Growling a little, Spike pulled her into the shadows. She knew it wouldn't do much if Angel took it upon himself to look behind him, but it provided them with some level of cover as they inched around the room. By now, the three of them were well into the crowd; Spike let go of Buffy's arm as the two of them slipped out past the bouncer (who gave them a wink, remembering them entering less than half an hour ago. He probably thought they'd given their friend the slip for some 'alone time' or something stupid like that) and into the street. They broke out into a run as soon as they cleared the line, and didn't stop until they reached the Restfield Cemetery halfway across town.

"You mind tellin' me how you knew they were comin'?" Spike demanded as they slowed to a walk.

Buffy chewed her lip. "I told you," she insisted, "I saw it."

"Saw as in, you saw them through a window?" Spike stopped cold and crossed his arms, staring her down like a displeased father.

Buffy tried to look as innocent as possible. "Uh-uh." She shook her head. "I got dizzy and greyed out. Then I sort of… had a vision?"

"A vision." He repeated flatly.

"Um… yes?" She smiled sweetly, wondering if she was going to get into trouble for denying she had the Sight before.

"Thought you didn't _have_ visions." He pointed out, still in a flat voice.

She shrugged a little, hugging herself. "I didn't think I did?" She tried. "Honest, first vision I ever had, outside of a dream."

"You sure?"

"I _think_ I'd remember that feeling." She rolled her eyes. "Not exactly the most pleasant of sensations." She was surprised at the lack of punches heading her way. Peaking up at him, she noted that he looked like the cat that ate the canary, and still had a saucer of cream to boot. "Are you okay?" The look was strange on him.

His smug grin seemed permanently attached to his face. "This is _brilliant_." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together in glee. "Your ruddy '_Slayer dreams_' have turned into the Sight. Dru was right." They took a moment to bask in the unlikeliness of _that_ ever happening. "C'mon, girl, lets get you someone to eat." He wrapped an arm around her waist almost gently, and steered her toward the centre of the park.

She was a little nervous and bewildered at his sudden change in attitude to her. He seemed almost to _like_ her now. She'd expected to be hit for her cheeky attitude, like before.

They found a few likely looking couples smooching on a bench in the centre of the part. Walking past them, Spike and Buffy looked like any other couple out for a moonlit stroll – or they would have, had it not been for their predatory posture and the way their eyes kept sizing up other people in the area, deciding who had the most blood and who would be the most fun to chase down.

Eventually, Spike settled on the youngest-looking couple there. Buffy recognised one of the Cordettes, some stupid girl by the name of Aura (whatever the hell kind of name that was anyway) and some dude on the football team who had asked _Buffy_ out the previous year. As they reached the tree line, Spike released his hold on her. They circled around behind the couple, waiting until either the other people left, or the pair they'd targeted decided to get a little more privacy.

Spike growled a little in annoyance after an hour. Buffy was hungry, and was on the verge of complaining about it when the couple _finally_ decided that it was cold out, and headed for the parking lot. Sending a thankful sigh into the night air, Buffy followed Spike as he led the hunt, jogging to catch up with their prey. It was as soon as they rounded the corner that they caught up to the pair. After snapping their necks and draining the corpses of blood, Buffy thought that it might be a _good_ thing that Spike seemed to have warmed up to her because of her new talent. It might almost guarantee her a long and fruitful unlife.


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or anything associated with it. All rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and affiliated products belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc.

**Summary:** Drusilla's request throws Spike for a loop; now there're fledglings in the warehouse wearing the faces of the Slayer and her best friend. "I want the pretty sunshine. Will you make her for me?"

**Setting: **AU from 'Halloween' (Season 2, Episode 6).

**Rating:** M

**Pairings:** Initial Sprusilla, eventual Spuffy.

**Genre:** Supernatural/Romance

* * *

**Sunshine to Moonlight**

**Chapter Three**

Buffy and Willow got along better than they had before being sired. They shared a room and enjoyed the constant fawning of their grandsire – they liked to hunt together, since they both got such pleasure out of watching each other kill. They'd only been on three hunts together in as many weeks, and Spike had learnt that it was best to keep them separate if they wanted to have the whole group come back alive; hence the mostly separate hunting. Their styles just did not mesh, despite the fact that they got along so well.

In quiet, Willow was a little jealous of Buffy. In life, she'd overshadowed her as Buffy the Vampire Slayer; preternaturally strong and positively glowing with confidence and sexuality. Now, in death, she was _still_ overshadowed by Buffy the Vampire – she had visions, respect amongst the vamps who were more than five times her age, and the favour of _both_ their resident Master Vampire _and_ his partner. Spike never looked at Willow more than twice.

That was okay, though. Willow was beginning to dabble in the Black Arts, with Drusilla's encouragement. She was getting to be a pretty good witch after a few weeks; she wasn't able to immolate at will – yet – but had thrown a few lower-powered spells at some of the other vampires with Dru's blessing. They'd kill a human if she put enough energy into them, but just watching some of the older vampires dance around with a glob of muck on their faces was fun. It'd suffocate a human.

Spike had _finally_ granted Buffy and Willow permission to go out as a two-vampire team, rather than the normal three to four. They'd both whinged at Drusilla until she'd practically ordered him to let them go. They were strong enough, she'd said, and would likely have more fun if they were with people that they liked… and the kill always tasted better when you were having fun. Plus, they knew the library with the book that they needed for her cure.

As soon as it got dark, they emerged from the sewers in front of Sunnydale High School. The halls were deserted as they walked through them, laughing at the '_HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL_?' posters with Willow's face on them plastered across just about every surface. They'd be plastered over with other faces soon enough; she was just another Sunnydale High student that disappeared under mysterious circumstances.

They were almost to the library when a glow from a nearby classroom caught Buffy's attention. Nudging Willow in the side, she jerked her head in the direction of the door. With Willow's nod, they crept up to it and peered inside, spying Jenny Calendar typing away at the computer.

"Y'know, the Watcher'll be in the library…" Buffy drawled, unconcerned, as they watched her.

"…and if we wanna avoid getting dusted…" Willow continued, catching on.

"…what better way to do it than with his girlfriend between us and a crossbow bolt?" Buffy snickered. Peering around, they confirmed that the only other signs of life in the building were in the library down the hall. With a look at each other and a nod, Buffy pushed open the door and grinned as Jenny's head snapped around to face them. The fear that painted itself there was delicious.

Buffy licked her lips. "Hullo, Jen." She purred.

The teacher scrambled to her feet and backed away slowly, almost tripping over a folder on the floor behind her. Buffy was aware of Willow advancing behind her, cutting off the other side of the room to prevent escape. Jenny's eyes snapped back and forth between them. "Buffy, Willow—"

"Scream and we'll snap your pretty little neck and be long gone before the others get here." Willow warned with flashing eyes.

Buffy's almost-friendly grin faded into a sultry smile. "If you're a good little kitty, you _might_ get to live." She finally cornered her in the back of the room, reaching up and grasping the teacher's arm, pulling her forward and spinning her around so that she was able to hold her against her body. With an arm across Jenny's middle, she effectively anchored her arms and held her in a vice grip that she wasn't going to get out of any time soon. With her other hand, she brushed her hair back and traced patterns on her neck. "Got it?"

Jenny nodded, close to hyperventilation. Buffy had clapped her free hand over her mouth and was tugging her, unresisting, to the door when Willow called out. "Stop!"

Buffy froze, looking back. "What is it?"

Willow gave Jenny a glare. "This." She said, tapping the monitor.

Inching closer, Buffy frowned. "'The ritual of restoration'." She read off the screen. "Now, why don't I like the sound of that?" She asked Jenny almost conversationally, not caring that Jenny couldn't talk around her hand. "Delete it." She ordered Willow, tightening her grip on Jenny's arm.

They watched as Willow typed a little, before the screen went curiously blank. The redheaded vampire then pushed the whole computer off the table and kicked it across the room. Buffy snickered at the noise it made, ordering Willow to hurry up and leaving the room to march the terrified teacher toward the Library.

* * *

Giles and Xander were alone in the Library. Angel had left to go patrolling, not being able to stand being cooped up inside, knowing that the Hellmouth had no guardian. Giles had been contacting the Watcher's Council on and off for the last few weeks, trying to get them to transfer the new Slayer to Sunnydale. They'd agreed that the Hellmouth needed a guardian, and the Slayer would be on her way within the next week; a prophet that worked for the Jamaican girl's Watcher had predicted some dark force descending on them soon.

Xander was _trying_ to study for a test that he had the next day, _and_ help Giles attempt to identify the 'dark power' so that they could help the Slayer when she arrived. They weren't getting very far; all the prophecies that Giles had dug up weren't due yet. Angel hadn't had any ideas either, since the only real threats out there at the present time were Spike and his gang.

At the crashes down the hall, both men jumped about a foot in the air. Looking at each other, they both privately arrived to the same conclusion; getting to their feet, they rushed toward the book cage and fumbled with a pair of crossbows. By time they were finished, the two vampires and the human woman they held captive were already in the room. The leather that the two of them wore shined dimly in the artificial light.

"Don't move." Buffy purred at them. "I see a bolt on either one of those crossbows, Teach here gets it." She tightened her grip across the woman's middle, making her whimper.

"What are you doing here?" Giles asked, his eyes on Jenny. He couldn't bring himself to look up at the pale faces of the two girls that he'd come to love as daughters. His guilt at his perceived failure to protect them forbade it. Xander, however, stared at them in horror. Willow had cut her hair to her shoulders and both of them were wearing tight leather pants and black shirts. Their faces were painted darkly, making the paleness of their skin even more striking.

"You have something we want." Willow drawled, waltzing forward and slamming the cage closed. She gave them a saccharine smile as she closed the padlock; they could see the keys plainly on the hook behind the reception desk. She gave a feline growl as Giles pressed a cross to the bars of the cage, recoiling away from it. "Naughty, naughty, Giles." She drawled. "We wouldn't want Buffy to have to kill _poor_ Miss Calendar, would we?"

"Okay…" Giles dropped the cross. "All right. What do you want?"

Buffy held Jenny firmly. "Go get it, Wil. I got this lot under control."

"You sure?" She asked in fake concern.

Buffy pressed her nose into Jenny's neck and inhaled deeply. As much as she enjoyed the scent of the teacher's blood, the sound of the three heartbeats increasing in rate was music to her ears. It made both vampires practically salivate. "Positive." She laughed. She could feel the shiver that ran through Jenny's body at the sound.

"Alrightey, then." Willow shrugged, turning her back in what could have possibly been a galling display of confidence, had Buffy not held Jenny in her grasp.

"How could you do this, Buff?" Xander's voice was small.

"How could I do what?" Buffy blinked in pseudo innocence. "How could I hold Jen like this? It's easy."

Xander ignored Giles' shushing motions, intent on trying to reach his friend at a basic level. "Buffy, you're the protector of the innocent… how can you kill people like that?"

Buffy chuckled again. "'Protector of the innocent'! Xander, all Slayers are monsters at heart, just _waiting_ for an excuse to get their pesky little _souls_ to be taken away." She practically choked over her laughter, sobering up as Jenny began to attempt to wriggle out of her grip. "None of that." She tightened her hold once more, delighting in the whimpers. "We're _free_, Xander. Me 'n' Wil. We're strong, and young, and immortal. Plus, no guilt, which is always a plus."

"But you're hurting innocent people!" He protested.

Buffy smirked. "And therein lies the fun."

"Got it." Willow came back from the back room, the Du Lac Manuscript in her hands. "Let's blow this Popsicle stand."

"Let's." Buffy agreed, walking backward. "We'll let dear ol' Jenny go when we get outside." She faked a sigh. "And here I was, enjoying catching up. We'll see you boys sooner or later." She batted her eyelashes at them as they reached the door. She swung around and marched Jenny through them, the three of them disappearing from sight.

"So, so they'll let her go and she'll come let us out, right?" Xander asked timidly after a few moments of silence.

"Let us hope so." Giles murmured, with a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn't believe for a moment that they would let her go, but he hoped.

* * *

Outside, Buffy and Willow paused. Jenny's heart and breathing rate was at an all-time high, and she reeked of fear. Now that they were out of the school and had what they came for, they had no reason to hold on to her.

"Y'know, Jenny," Buffy sighed, taking her hand off her mouth and twisting her fingers in the older woman's hair. "If it weren't for that pesky spell, we'd have let you go."

"Speak for yourself, Buff." Willow snorted. "I'm hungry."

"Please…" Jenny's voice was weak.

Buffy shrugged, dropping her hair and beginning to trace patterns on her throat. "Mmm, me too." She admitted. "And, since we can't leave her walking around with the knowledge of the curse, we should probably deal with it." She grinned at her partner. "We can have ourselves a little snack before getting that book to Spike, don't'cha think?"

Willow was already in game face. "After you." Her voice took a sinister guttural tone.

Buffy relished in the feeling of the cartilage on her face shifting as she let the demon out to play. Covering Jenny's mouth just as she began to scream, Buffy bit into one side of her throat, while Willow bit into the other. There wasn't enough blood in her to satisfy both girls. It took just a few minutes to completely drain her before Buffy flung the carcass to the ground, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Still hungry." Willow pouted with human lips, pulling away.

Buffy frowned as her human face slipped back on. "Me too." She admitted. "C'mon. We can get that thing back to the factory and then go out and get some dinner."

* * *

Angel knew there was something wrong the moment he got back to the school. The scent of blood and death was all around the front doors; he found Jenny lying on the ground, reeking of Buffy and Willow. He rolled the teacher onto her back, seeing the vacant eyes and slack jaw, feeling how cold she was; she'd been dead for several hours.

Fearing the worst, he tore through the school and burst into the library, scaring the two men in the cage. Striding over, he pulled on the gate, trying to rip it off at the hinges. "The keys are behind the counter." Giles told him in a small, frightened voice.

Striding across the room and retrieving said keys, he returned and freed them. "Buffy and Willow." He said grimly. "They were here."

Giles nodded. "They left some time ago, I'm afraid."

"You didn't dust them." Angel observed.

"We couldn't." Xander admitted. "Buffy had Miss Calendar. They were gonna kill her if we… where is she…?" He asked weakly, a little naïve.

Angel shook his head gravely. "She's outside. They killed her. I'm sorry."

Giles groaned and sank into a chair at the table; he cradled his head in his hands. Xander slid down the side of the wall, staring blankly. "They said they'd let her go…" he said weakly.

"What did they come here for?" Angel demanded. "Spike would have to value them. He wouldn't let them come here on a whim."

"A book." Giles murmured. "They took a book."

"What book?"

"I don't bloody well know!" Giles roared, snapping his head up to glare at the vampire, tears evident on his face. "We've just lost yet _another_ friend, Angel. Please allow us a moment of grace to collect our bearings."

Angel sighed. "I'm sorry." He sat across from Giles, staring down at the tabletop. "I should have stayed tonight. I shouldn't have gone patrolling."

"It's not your fault. Someone needs to be patrolling until the new Slayer arrives." Giles said weakly, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Where is Je—where is she?"

"In the gardens by the front door." Angel shook his head. "They drained her and left her there."

"They said they'd let her go!" Xander roared in anguish and anger, tossing a box of papers across the room. There was something satisfying in the way the paper flew in all directions upon impact, casting a smattering of crisp white sheets all over the floor. "I'll kill Spike. This is all _his_ fault. He's the one that turned Buffy and Willow and made them like this. _I'll kill him_!"

"Calm down, Xander!" Angel jumped up and seized him before he could reach the door.

"Don't you tell me to _calm down_!" He spat, trying to push Angel away.

"You go after Spike now and you'll get yourself killed." Angel said softly, pushing the boy backward and into a chair. "Wait until the new Slayer gets here. You can help her then."

"And then more people'll die!" Xander argued. "We can't just sit here and do _nothing_!"

"Xander, please calm yourself." Giles gathered his wits. "Angel is right. We must wait for Miss Young to arrive; otherwise we'll just end up killed. Now, if you'll excuse me, I… I must go and examine Jenny's bod—I must see to Jenny." He hurried out of the library. Xander and Angel just watched him go, not knowing what to say. 


End file.
